Chili Con Corpses

Chili con Corpses: A Supper Club Mystery
© 2008 by J. B. Stanley.

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First e-book edition © 2010

E-book ISBN: 9780738718057

Book design by Donna Burch

Cover design by Ellen Dahl

Cover image © 2007 Linda Holt Ayriss / Susan and Co

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Manufactured in the United States of America

For Dad

Because of you

I saw a bullfight in Mexico

a view of Paris from the Eiffel Tower

a carnival in Finland

Roman Baths

Lenin’s Tomb

the Lion of Lucerne

the Panama Canal

and so much more

Thanks for broadening my perspective

and for believing in taking kids

on long airplane rides

My doctor told me to stop having intimate dinners for four. Unless there are three other people.

—Orson Welles

“I’m sick to
death of being on a diet,” Bennett complained as he curled two free weights up and down from his waist to his collarbone.

James heartily agreed. The lunch he had eaten composed of a turkey bacon wrap with lettuce, tomato, and fat-free ranch dressing served on a whole-wheat tortilla seemed like a faint, unsatisfying memory.

“I know what you mean.” James pushed himself backward on the leg press machine, his thighs and buttocks burning as he moved the grudging stack of weights into the air. “Thinking about the nutritional content of every item I put in my Food Lion shopping cart is killing me. And I used to really enjoy going to the grocery store.”

As James got up from the leg press and selected a pair of twenty-five-pound free weights, Murphy Alistair, the editor and foremost reporter of
The Shenandoah Star Ledger
, entered the cardio/weight-training room. Even though this was the only YMCA within a hundred-mile radius, and was therefore always busy, Murphy was hard to miss. She was wearing black nylon sweats, a form-fitting yellow tank top, and a yellow headband. Waving hello to James in the mirror, she stepped onto a treadmill and began to jog. Murphy’s chin-length brown hair, streaked with golden highlights, flapped up and down on the sides of her head like bird wings as she moved. She looked completely at ease as she ran, her hazel eyes glued to the early news program playing on the wall-mounted TV, a towel draped casually round her neck.

“Spot me while I bench, will you?” Bennett asked James a few minutes later while preparing to lift a heavy dumbbell above his torso.

James examined the size of the circular weights attached to each end of the bar over his friend’s chest. “Two hundred pounds, huh?”

Bennett scowled. “Hey, man. I’m gonna do more than one set.”

“No, I’m impressed. That’s quite a load you’re lifting,” James quickly soothed his friend, noting how muscular Bennett’s arms and legs had become over the past several months. “You meant it when you said you’d be spending the summer getting buff. Well, now you’re buff.”

“Thanks, but I’m still the short mailman with the big gut.” Bennett took a deep breath and removed the weights from the stand. “
You’re
the guy who needed all new belts and pants.”

James stole a glance at himself in the wall-length mirror. It was true. After pursuing a low-carb diet with his supper club friends and then counting points and pursuing a regular exercise routine, James had lost over thirty pounds of unwanted flab and several inches from his doughy waist. Even his second chin, which had once given him a rather bullfrogish profile, was nearly gone. He still had slightly floppy jowls and was a long way from resembling the fit and toned specimens that paraded around the cardio room in tight biker shorts and T-shirts advertising the previous marathon they had run.

“Okay, James.” Bennett lifted the barbell so that James could settle them gently back onto the stand straddling the padded bench. “Let me just catch my breath before the next set.” Bennett closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. While he waited, James watched Murphy’s trim figure as she ran with a seemingly effortless stride and the black rubber of the treadmill moved beneath her feet like a fast-flowing stream. As he stared, Murphy’s attention was drawn to the reflection of two blonde-haired women entering the cardio room. Her face broke into a smile and she waved at the pair vigorously.

James did his best not to drool, nudge Bennett in the side, or blatantly ogle every square inch of the newcomers. He believed the women must be visitors because he would have certainly noticed the gorgeous blondes if they lived within the county, which was located in a rather isolated area of Virginia’s Blue Ridge Mountains. His town, Quincy’s Gap, did not have a shopping mall, trendy restaurants, or boutiques selling the latest in haute couture, but today, apparently, two movie stars were present in the middle of Shenandoah County. After all, James reasoned to himself, no one else but a starlet could have such shiny blonde hair, flawless skin, enormous blue eyes, and a body with more curves than a road on Skyline Drive. And what’s more, there were two of them. Twins, it looked like!

The young women moved with languid grace as they crossed the room, seemingly unaware that all of the men had ceased their activities and stood like mute statues in front of weight machines, ellipticals, or stair climbers.

A squeaking noise below James’s chest distracted him from the sight of the beautiful women. Bennett, who was slowly suffocating beneath the weight of the barbell resting on his chest, was desperately trying to get his friend’s attention.

“Oh, sorry!” James grabbed the barbell and struggled to return it to its metal holder.

Bennett took in a great breath and then, his lungs recovered, hollered, “What kind of spotting is that? You almost killed me, man!” Bennett sat up, rubbing his sore pectorals. “Do I have to send you to Gillian for some of her hocus-pocus herbal remedies to improve your attention span? Jeez!”

“Hey, you can’t blame me,” James mumbled, poking Bennett and pointing in the mirror so that he’d see the two blondes who were standing next to Murphy’s treadmill, beaming at her with two sets of blinding white teeth.

“Damn.” Bennett stopped rubbing his chest. “Those girls are
not
from around here. You think Murphy’s doing some kind of Miss America story or something?”

“Twins in the same pageant? Doubtful.”

“They could be from two different states,” Bennett argued. “The one on the left could be Miss Virginia and her sister could be Miss West Virginia.”

“That’s pretty unlikely, Bennett.” James observed the women more closely for clues as to who they were. “Look, the one on the right is wearing shorts with the Blue Ridge High Red-Tailed Hawks logo.”

Bennett cleared his throat as he gawked. “Those shorts never fit any high school girl like that! They’re tight as a wetsuit. That sweet thang must have dug that pair out of the lost and found at the elementary school.”

James laughed. “They’re a bit snug, that’s for sure.”

“And those two are almost as dark as me,” Bennett continued his appraisal. “Where’d they get color like that?”

“Probably from tanning.”

“In the dead of fall?” Bennett asked in disbelief.

“Yep. There are salons where you can go just to get a tan.” James smiled at his friend. “Some people spend their hard-earned money to look like they’ve been to the beach when really they’ve been sitting inside a claustrophobic capsule, frying beneath light bulbs supposedly free from ultraviolet rays, while they wear purple goggles and listen to relaxing music.”

“Sounds like sitting in a coffin while your own cremation’s going on.” Bennett gave James a strange look. “And exactly
why
do you know so much about this tanning nonsense?”

“I’m a librarian, remember?” James said as they headed over to the water fountain. “I read lots of magazines. In this month’s issue of
Time
, there was an article about ‘tanorexia.’ Fascinating stuff.”

“Tan-a-what?”

“It’s a new addiction, like alcoholism or being addicted to drugs, shopping, coffee …”

“Now, now. There’s nothing wrong with coffee,” Bennett interrupted defensively. “The caffeine in regular coffee speeds up the metabolism, reduces the risk of heart disease and certain types of cancer, and can even stop an asthma attack.”

“Bennett, I’ve never met someone who knew as much trivia as you. You have
got
to try out for
Jeopardy!
some day.”

“They’re comin’ to D.C. again this year,” his friend said quietly. “You know, for a contestant search.”

James took a long drink of cold water and then patted his dripping mouth with his sweat-soaked gym towel. “When?”

Bennett shrugged. “This winter.”

“You’ve got to go! You always said it was your big dream to appear on
Jeopardy!
”

His friend looked forlorn. “I don’t think I’m ready.”

“Just go to the tryouts. What have you got to lose?”

Bennett brightened. “You’re right! Besides,” he opened the gym door, casting one last look over his shoulder at the three attractive women clustered by the Y’s single treadmill, “I could use a bit of a shake-up. My life has gotten kind of dull these days. Same old routine, day in and day out.”

“I know what you mean,” James said, eyeing the beige parka he had worn for the last six winters with distaste. He looked at his watch. He didn’t want to go home, as his father was repainting the dining room and would demand help, and he didn’t feel like making a last-minute date with Lucy because their previous one had ended awkwardly. Still, he felt strangely restless and wanted to do something other than drop by Food Lion or rent another lackluster movie from the video store. Suddenly, he got an idea. “Feel like spoiling your dinner?” James asked Bennett once they were in the parking lot. “We could stop by Custard Cottage.”

Bennett zipped his navy blue uniform coat provided by the United States Postal Service and shivered. “Frozen custard in November?”

“Willy’s got a coffee-and-custard deal going on right now. We’ll get Sweet Lucy Light custard and skim milk in our coffees. A no-guilt snack.”

“Twist my arm, why don’t you?” Bennett sniggered. “You’re on.”

“Well, well!” Willy beamed as James opened the canary-yellow door of the purple and pink Victorian abode known as the Custard Cottage. “It’s good to see you, my friends!”

“What happened to your garbage cans?” James asked, pointing out the window where the trash cans shaped like giant ice cream cones were normally placed.

“Graffiti.” The jolly proprietor issued a deep belly laugh. “Apparently, Billy loves Jamie and in ways I don’t think Jamie’s parents would appreciate.”

“Ah,” James and Bennett replied in unison.

“I’ve got the stuff to clean ’em up with, but I figure they can stay inside for the winter anyhow. No one’s eatin’ outside these days—not even the teenagers who like to act like they’re too cool to feel cold.” He tugged on his starched, pinstriped apron. “Now what can I get for the most eligible bachelors in Quincy’s Gap? I’ve got the most delicious Pumpkin Nutmeg custard you’ll ever get on your tongue. Wanna try some?”

“Better not, thanks.” James gestured toward a nearby chalkboard. “We’ll each take your Cup & Cone special. Decaf and Sweet Lucy for me, please.”

“I’ll have full octane and a Chocolate Mousse cone.” Bennett shot a glance at James. “I burned enough calories today—I gotta give myself a reward sometimes.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that.” Willy completed their orders and then came out from behind the counter to sit with them while they ate. He stirred a packet of sugar into his own coffee mug and then took a sip. All of a sudden, he looked out the front picture window and began spluttering and fighting for air. Bennett thumped him on the back while Willy gasped. During the commotion, the front door opened to the tinkle of merry bells.

“What a
darling
place!” stated an appealing but unfamiliar female voice. James turned to see what the speaker looked like and was surprised to see Murphy and the gorgeous blondes hustling through the doorway, rubbing their bare hands together against the chilly November evening air.

“Don’t worry, I’m not stalking you guys,” Murphy teased, winking at James. “I’d like you all to meet my friends, Parker and Kinsley Willis.”